This chapter is a bit more light-hearted than the last one, but it's still pretty drama-filled. At this rate, I may have to change the category from humor to drama. What do you think? Is there still enough humor in here to call it a humor fic?

This chapter is mostly dealing with the Kyle/Kenny aspect of the story. I'll be moving the focus back to the main story in the next chapter.

Please review, let me know how I'm doing.

I don't own South Park.

Beside Me in the Morning

Chapter 9: I Do What I Want

"Cartman, wait up!"

Cartman pressed on through the snow, ignoring Kenny's calls. The little shit could go rot, for all he cared.

Unfortunately, though, Kenny's skinny ass moved faster than Cartman's, and his trailer trash feet were more accustomed to sub-zero temperatures. Seconds later, he was walking side-by-side with Cartman, not even wheezing for air, as Cartman always did after running to catch up with someone. He crossed his arms and pretended not to notice Kenny walking beside him.

"Cartman?"

Cartman ignored him.

"Cartman, will you talk to me, please?

"No," he replied. "Shit."

"Fine, you don't have to talk. Just listen."

Cartman whipped his head in Kenny's direction, scowling at his best friend. "Why don't you go talk to your butt buddy? He might listen to you."

"Um no. He won't. And besides, you're the one I need to talk to."

"So you can explain why you shared every detail of my personal life with my mortal enemy?"

"So I can talk you out of whatever you're planning on doing to use Kyle's sexuality against him."

Cartman stopped walking, staring at Kenny in disbelief. "Seriously? You're here to save Kyle's ass? You're not even gonna try to apologize for spilling all my secrets to him?"

Kenny shook his head. "You're unbelievable. You're about to ruin someone's life, and you still think you're the one who's been wronged."

"You're supposed to be my best friend. You're supposed to be on my side."

Kenny sighed slowly, the mist from his breath rising in the cold air. "Look, I'm sorry I told Kyle those things about you. That wasn't my place. But forcing Kyle out of the closet or blackmailing him or whatever you're planning on doing…is just wrong. No one deserves that, especially not Kyle."

Cartman glared at Kenny. "I will do…whatever the fuck I want."

Kenny crossed his arms, looking away. "Yeah, you always do."

"You're fucking right I do."

"You know, I'm always the one to stand up for you. I give you the benefit of the doubt when you don't deserve it. And, yeah, maybe telling that stuff to Kyle makes me a bad friend, but you… You're just…a bad person. Maybe the reason I'm your only friend is that I'm the only one you deserve."

"Were. You were my friend, Kenny."

"Good riddance. You're a selfish prick, Cartman. It's no wonder Wendy doesn't want you."

Cartman stared at Kenny in shock, his brows furrowed angrily. "You know, I was only gonna use this to intimidate Kyle. Freak him out a bit. But after talking to you… God, my only problem is deciding who I want to tell first."

"How long do you have to wait to ask someone out after they've broken up with someone?" Craig asked, sliding his tray onto the table across from Clyde's.

"I don't think Stan's interested, Craig," Clyde remarked, biting his bottom lip as he attempted to wedge his fork under his cast. The damn thing itched something fierce, and it made it hard for him to concentrate on anyone else's problems.

"I meant Bebe, asshole."

"I know that. I'm not an idiot."

"So, you think she'll say yes?" Craig wondered. "I mean, she didn't even like Stan that much."

"Whatever, Craig. Go for it. I don't care."

"That's real encouraging, Clyde."

Clyde sent his best friend an apologetic gaze. "Look, I'm trying really hard to care about everyone's drama. Really I am. But there's just so goddamn much of it. You're in love with Bebe, Bebe's pissed at Wendy, Bebe and Stan just broke up, blah, blah, blah. And none of that shit really matters to me when I'm off my pain meds and I literally have an itch that I can't fucking scratch."

"You don't have to be such an ass about it. You're the one who went and broke your arm."

"Go fuck yourself."

"What did I miss?" Bebe asked, situating herself at the table beside Clyde.

"Just Clyde being an asshole," Craig replied. "He's off his pain meds."

"You're the asshole," Clyde shot back pathetically.

"You're a whiny little bitch."

Bebe rolled her eyes. "Behave yourselves, boys. And Clyde, stop scratching."

"Yes, mother," Clyde muttered, dropping his fork.

"Look at that," Bebe said, nodding toward the door.

Clyde looked up, and Craig craned his neck around. There at the doorway, staring into the cafeteria like a lost puppy, was Eric Cartman.

Craig turned back around in his seat. "So?"

"He looks like he has no one to sit with."

"That's his fucking problem."

"We can't let him sit by himself."

"That's what you said about Wendy yesterday," Clyde pointed out. "And this is Cartman. You hate Cartman. Everyone does."

"I don't hate him," Bebe insisted. "Cartman and I have a lot in common."

"Oh?" Craig raised an eyebrow. "Are you secretly a fat bastard and we just don't know it?"

"He's…misunderstood."

"Bebe, I have heard many, many colorful words used to describe Cartman. 'Misunderstood' has never been one of them, nor should it ever be."

Bebe ignored Craig's comment, waving at the chubby teenager. "Cartman, over here!" she called.

"Great," Clyde muttered, as Cartman made his way to their table. "Just when I thought my day couldn't get any better."

"Good lord," Stan sighed, sitting down at his regular table across from Kyle and Wendy. "I miss one day and everything's different. Since when is Cartman friends with Bebe?"

Kyle shrugged. "Who cares about that asshole?"

Stan glanced around the table. "Hey, where's Kenny?"

Kyle groaned. Wendy patted his shoulder.

"Kyle, just relax, okay?"

Stan furrowed his eyebrows, staring at his friends. He had the distinct feeling that he was terribly out of the loop. "Am I missing something?"

"It's nothing," Wendy assured him, although it did nothing to ease him mind.

"You guys, seriously. What's going on?"

"It has nothing to do with you," Kyle snapped.

Stan drew back, stunned. "I'm sorry. I was under the impression that we were best friends and that we were involved in each others' lives."

Kyle drew a hand through his curls. "You're not involved in anyone's lives Stan. You're too involved with yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"When's the last time you asked me anything about my life?"

"I'm asking now."

"Will you two cut it out," Wendy snapped. Her hand moved up from Kyle's shoulder to give him a good thump on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Kyle cried. "What the hell was that for?"

"For being a dick. Stan's not the one you're mad at, Kenny is."

Kyle rubbed his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Mad at Kenny?" Stan repeated. "Why?"

Kyle' eyes flickered down to the table.

Stan tilted his head to the side. "Kyle? What's with all the secrecy?"

"I'm just mad at him, okay?" Kyle mumbled.

"Look, if you want me to be mad at Kenny with you, I will. You just have to give me a reason."

Kyle clenched his jaw. "If you really want to know, why don't you ask Kenny? I'm sure he'll tell you anything. Or better yet, go ask Cartman."

Stan glanced over at Bebe's table. "Cartman's in on this too?" He shook his head, turning his attention to his lunch. "Jesus Christ, I miss one day…"

Kenny's stomach let out a low rumble. He sunk lower in his seat, ducking behind the library book he'd randomly selected from the shelf. The Complete Works of Robert Frost.

He hadn't eaten a thing all day. On a normal day, he would have pilfered food from Clyde's backpack during study hall or his friends' trays during lunch. Today, however, he'd opted to skip both. Neither Cartman nor Kyle wanted anything to do with him, and at that point, it was easiest just to avoid both of them. If that meant not eating, well, so be it. He'd gone for longer periods of time without eating.

His stomach gave another cry of protest, and he clenched his gut to silence the growling.

"Hey, do you want a granola bar or something?"

He lowered his book to see Heidi approaching him, holding out a Quaker Oats bar. He accepted gratefully, tearing off the wrapper and sinking his teeth into the granola.

"I have some Saltines in my bag too," Heidi offered, taking the seat beside him. "They're supposed to help with the morning sickness."

"No thanks," he replied around a mouthful of granola. "My morning sickness is under control."

"Funny." She pulled a sleeve of crackers from her backpack and took a bite of one. "I've been eating twice as much as I used to. And throwing it up every morning. My parents have noticed. They think I'm bulimic."

He eyed her up and down critically. "Did they tell you it's not working?"

She threw a half-eaten cracker at him, pouting. "Asshole."

Kenny shrugged. "On the bright side, your boobs look incredible."

She perked up. "Thank you."

"So, uh…" Kenny took a bite of his granola bar. "How come you're holed up in the library during lunch? Don't you have friends?"

"Don't you?"

"Touché."

Heidi picked up another cracker and nibbled on the corner. "My friends aren't really talking to me right now."

"What about Token?"

"We broke up."

Kenny frowned. "Did that shithead dump you because you're pregnant?"

She placed a hand on her stomach. "It's… It's not his. That's actually why I told you first."

Kenny's eyes widened. "Holy shit, is it mine?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. But I didn't know how to tell Token I was pregnant…"

"…and you knew he'd find out anyway if you told me," Kenny finished. "God, am I that bad?"

"You do have a reputation for having a big mouth."

He sighed. "No wonder Kyle thinks I told Cartman that…"

Kenny's voice trailed off, and Heidi tilted her head curiously.

"Told him what?"

Kenny shook his head. "I, uh, can't tell you."

"So, Kyle's mad at you? Is that why you're in here instead of out there?"

He crumpled up his granola bar wrapper and tossed it in the direction of the trashcan, missing by about a foot. "I'm getting what's coming to me, I guess," he sighed.

Heidi nodded, biting into her Saltine. "Yeah, me too."

"So, uh, who's the baby's daddy?" Kenny asked, reaching for a cracker.

"He doesn't go here. You wouldn't know him."

"And your parents don't know?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell them."

"They're bound to find out. You know, when you start to get really fat. Or, at the very least, when you're pushing an eight-pound monster out your vag."

"I guess I'll just wait until then to tell them."

"Have you seen a doctor at least?"

Heidi shook her head.

"Seriously? What are you, like four months along?"

She bit her lip. "I'm sort of lost about this whole thing. I think I'm in over my head."

"Well, my sister-in-law is about to have a baby, and she and my brother would be glad to help you out. I mean, they don't have money or anything, but Susan knows all sorts of baby shit that you'd never even think about."

"Really?"

"Are you doing anything after school?"

Heidi snorted. "Yeah right. With who?"

"Meet me at my locker when we get out of class. I'll take you to Kevin's house."

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"Of course. Kevin is… What's the word for when you care about pregnant teenagers and shit?"

"Compassionate?"

"Sappy."

Heidi smiled, nodding. "Okay, yeah. I'll see you after school."

"You should tell Stan," Wendy whispered, leaning across the aisle to Kyle's desk.

"I didn't ask for your input."

"He's your best friend."

"Best friends don't stay best friends forever. Look at you and Bebe."

"That's not gonna happen with you and Stan. At least not if you're honest with him." She bit her lip, glancing across the room at her ex-best friend. "I was never honest with Bebe," she admitted.

Kyle sighed. "It's just that the more people know about me, the more I feel like pretty soon everyone will know."

"He's gonna find out anyway. Wouldn't you rather he heard it from you than from Cartman?"

"I guess so."

"How come you could tell Kenny but not Stan? Stan can keep a secret better than Kenny. Everyone knows that."

"Yeah, but I don't…" Kyle swallowed, looking around the classroom.

Wendy nodded, understanding. Kyle didn't like Stan. As for Kenny…

"Do you still…? You know."

"Believe me, Wendy. I wish I didn't."

"I know what you mean."

She glanced back in Bebe's direction. Cartman was sitting in the desk next to Bebe, hunched over his math assignment, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his assignment.

"He kept calling me yesterday," Kyle whispered. "Leaving me messages."

"Did you listen to them?"

"No."

Wendy shrugged. "Maybe you should."

"So he can insist he didn't do anything wrong?"

"How do you know he did?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Wends, the only people I've told are Kenny, Ike and you. Why should I doubt that it was Kenny? My own brother would not sell me out to Cartman. And I know you'd never tell anyone."

Wendy nodded.

She cared about Kyle too much. He was her best friend. Of course she'd never tell anyone he was gay.

Except… Her mind wandered to Craig's birthday, the day Stan had convinced her to hang out with Bebe. She had let it slip to Bebe that day. It had been an accident, of course, and she'd made Bebe swear never to repeat it.

Of course, that was before yesterday. Before the fight they'd had at lunch. And before Bebe and Cartman had inexplicably latched onto one another.

She turned back to look at Bebe, who was now bent over Cartman's desk, pointing out some flaw on his math paper.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

"Shit."

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

Wendy licked her lips, breathing deeply as she turned back to face Kyle.

"I have to tell you something," she whispered. "And you're not gonna like it."

Based on the number of voicemails Kenny had left Kyle the previous day, begging him to answer his phone so they could talk, Kyle thought the blond would be thrilled to find him waiting by his locker after school. Evidently, he'd been foolish in believing this.

Kenny scowled when he saw Kyle, nudging him out of the way so he could reach his padlock.

"If you're expecting an apology, you're wasting your time. I didn't tell Cartman anything."

Kyle scratched his arm awkwardly. "I know. That's why I'm here."

Kenny turned the dial on his lock. "This should be good. So, who spilled the beans?"

"It was Wendy."

"Wendy?" Kenny paused to look at Kyle skeptically. "Really?"

"Indirectly."

He nodded, turning back to his locker. "So are you gonna give her the cold shoulder too now?"

"She didn't mean to tell. And she didn't actually tell Cartman, exactly. It was Bebe…"

"I didn't tell him either," Kenny pointed out. "That didn't stop you from icing me out."

Kyle crossed his arms. "Well can you blame me? You've blabbed every other secret anyone's ever told you."

"Great. So this is somehow still my fault," Kenny muttered, wrenching open his locker.

"Will you knock off the guilt trip and just accept my apology?"

Kenny dumped his books unceremoniously into his locker. "What apology? Making excuses is not the same as apologizing."

Kyle sighed, lowering his hands to his sides. "You're right," he said slowly, calmly, quietly. "I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I should have given you a chance to defend yourself. I'm sorry."

Kenny stared hard at Kyle, clutching his locker door. Kyle shifted uncomfortably.

"So…am I forgiven?"

Kenny closed his locker slowly. "Well, that seemed heartfelt enough. And I know how hard it is for you to admit when you're wrong."

"It is not!" Kyle cried indignantly.

Kenny gave him a little half-smile, which would have made Kyle weak in the knees. If he was that kind of gay.

"It's cute how stubborn you are," Kenny remarked teasingly.

Kyle was the gayest gay ever to gay in Gaysville.

"And look," Kenny went on. "I know I have a big mouth. And I can understand why you'd think…" He licked his lips. "But I'd never tell anyone that. I promise."

Kyle smiled. "Can we be friends again?"

"Did we stop being friends?"

Kenny opened his arms, and Kyle welcomed the hug, wrapping his own arms around his friend's torso and planting his chin on Kenny's shoulder. He gave the blond's hair a subtle sniff before pulling away.

When they pulled apart, Kenny's cheeks had taken on a slightly pink tint. He gave his best manly cough and crossed his arms. Kyle smiled, shaking his head.

"So, you wanna come over?" he offered. "Stan's got other plans, so it'd be just you and me."

"Actually…" Kenny zipped up his jacket. "…I have other plans too."

Kyle tried not to seem too disappointed, but he couldn't help it if his face fell just a little bit. "With who?"

Kenny didn't need to answer, because she arrived as if on cue, sidling up to the blond and clutching her barely-protruding belly.

"You two are talking again," Heidi commented. "That's great."

Kyle faked a smile. "Yeah."

Kenny grinned, offering the pregnant girl his arm. "Ready to go?"

"Ready," she replied, linking her hand over the crook of his elbow.

The two of them waved goodbye to Kyle, walking arm-in-arm down the hall. Kyle stared after them as they left, his heart sinking, disappointed in himself for wanted something he could never have. And for believing, however briefly, that Kenny could want him too.

Cartman's basement was a sweet escape when he got home from school.

He knew Bebe meant well in offering her friendship, and he was forced to accept it, seeing as he didn't have any other offers. But Jesus Christ, having to suffer through lunch with Bebe, Craig and Clyde. And he'd thought his own friends were pathetic. It was no wonder Wendy ditched those three.

Bebe's problem was that she tried to fucking hard to please everybody. Craig, on the other hand, didn't try at all. And Clyde might have been trying, but the boy was just to fucking clueless to get it right.

After putting up with Craig's constant dry remarks during lunch, listening to Clyde complain about his stupid broken wrist, and having Bebe go as far as to sit next to him in math so she could help him out because he'd let slip that it was his worst subject, he was glad to get home and retreat to his empty basement.

He made his way around the room, lighting each of the lamps, and stopped at the record player to put on an old Beatles album.

No sooner had he flopped down on the old couch, than he heard footsteps thumping down the stairs. He groaned, shaking his head. He'd finally gotten away from everybody. He was not in the mood for company.

"Whoever you are, just turn yourself around and march right back up those stairs," he ordered.

"It's me," a voice responded, steadily growing nearer to him.

"Great," Cartman muttered. "I was just thinking to myself, 'Buck up, Eric. Your day could have been worse. At least you didn't have to look at Stan's ugly mug all day.'"

Stan stepped into view, frowning at the larger boy. "Thanks."

Cartman sighed. "So? What do you want?"

Stan held up his hands, shrugging, as he gazed around the basement. "To check out this cool new pad I've heard so much about?"

Cartman nodded. "Why are you really here?"

Stan dropped his hands to his sides, approaching Cartman and taking a seat beside him on the couch. "I want to talk to you," he replied.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Stan. I figured as much. What do you want to talk to me about?"

Stan looked down at his lap, tugging absent-mindedly at as loose thread on the armrest of the couch. "Everyone's keeping secrets from me," he explained finally. "I want to know what's going on."

"Did you try Kenny? He's good at sharing other peoples' secrets."

Stan threw up his arms. "Why does everyone keep saying that? What the hell did Kenny do to piss everyone off?"

Cartman raised his eyebrows. "So Kyle hasn't told you anything? Like…anything?"

Surely Stan, Kyle's best friend, knew that Kyle was gay. Kyle had to have told Stan.

"No. He hasn't told me anything. He's barely spoken to me. All I know is that I missed one day of school, and suddenly everyone's mad at Kenny, Kyle's mad at you, and you're suddenly buddy-buddy with my ex-girlfriend."

"Wendy hasn't told you anything either?"

"No. No one's told me anything. So will you please fill me in?"

Cartman crossed his arms. "Maybe I don't want you to know either."

Stan looked desperate. "Cartman, please. I feel like I'm losing my best friend. I feel like I'm losing all of my friends."

"Even me?"

"What?"

Cartman licked his lips. "Am I one of your friends?"

"Dude, yes. You're my friend. What the hell kind of a question is that?"

Cartman sighed. "Fine. I'll tell you."

Stan blinked. "You will?"

"It's sort of a long story, though. I don't really know where to start."

His friend nodded, waiting patiently.

"First of all," Cartman told him, "you might not want to sit on this couch, because Wendy and I had sex on it."